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Editing is for Lovers…of Editing

Because I Love You Guys and I Love These Paragraphs

Last night, I began my editing journey on my third novel and I’m already almost finished what I call, the soft edits. They’re actually not so soft because they consist of punctuation, grammar and extra or missing words but to me, that’s the easy part. Well, it’s easy because I have an awesome first look editor and she’s a coworker so I’m doubly blessed. I get to see her every day and she edits a few chapters at a time as I write. She’s also one of my beta readers so I also get feedback as I write which is priceless. SHE is priceless.

I only have twenty four pages to go which she will pass back to me on Monday no doubt but I’ve already started my second round, which as we know is the hardest; rewrites. Honestly, I absolutely LOVE editing. Yes, I’m crazy but when you’re working with someone who lifts you up instead of tearing you down, how can you not love it? Also and as important in my eyes, is the process of hard work in order to make your finished novel the very best it can be. Your readers deserve it.

As I was working on the grammar edits, I came upon these three paragraphs and I turned to mush. What was I feeling and thinking when I wrote this? What possessed me so to be able to convey so much love? I really don’t know because I wrote it about a month ago but tonight, as I read it, it didn’t matter. To be honest, I can barely remember writing it. So, because I love you guys, I am going to share these three little paragraphs. I hope they turn you to mush too. Well, that is if you’re into mushy stuff. 😉

“Pick up your sword. I have no use for a knight. What I do need is simple and you’ve already given me that. All I want is what I’ve read in books. I want what I saw in my Uncle’s eyes when he gazed upon my Aunt as she sat quietly at her embroidery or as she tended her flowers in the garden,” she said as she took his hand and pulled him to his feet.

He leaned in over her and pressed his brow to hers and whispered, “Should you ever sit quietly at needlework or tend roses, I shall look upon you in such a way that you will feel the warmth in my soul upon your skin and the love in my heart will burn like the brightest light within your bosom.”

Ivory was overcome by a gentle warmth so deep it rose up in her like the flame of a single candle, held against the blackest night. Her cheeks flushed. “I suppose that will do.”